The Cat's Me...Ow...Ow...OW!

I am NOT an early morning person! Never have been. These days 8 am is when I tend to roll out of bed.

This morning, however, I was up at five stinking twenty in the morning. Why? Because our new cat, Lou, needed to be taken 35 miles away to Montesano on the first leg of his trip to be neutered in Tacoma.

I was expecting a loud but otherwise peaceful trip. Boy, was I in for a big surprise!!!

You see, the carrier we had borrowed proved to be no match for our little kitty. He escaped from it in less than 5 miles into our trip. I got him back into the carrier and damn if he didn't get out again in short order. So, there I am hurtling down the highway with a frantic cat doing everything possible to insure we would wreck.

It took all of my sage wisdom to develop a strategy that got us safely from Point A to Point B. And I have the scratches and puncture wounds to show for it!!

Here, Gone, Back

Trey Smith

For 3 months, KOSW-LP was my second home. Then I was gone for about 2 1/2 weeks. I thought this experiment was over and finished. But then a funny thing happened. The two managers (volunteers just like everyone else up there) -- who had seemed to make it their sole purpose in life to hassle me and one other volunteer -- suddenly quit. Together they had precipitated a financial crisis and, rather than deal with the fallout they had created, both walked away to leave the mess for others to have to resolve.

With these two blokes out of the way, I was welcomed back into the fold. I picked up right where I left off. In fact, I am somewhat producing the new morning show. The only drawback is that I have to arrive at the station around 6 am each morning. It is not as bad as it sounds since I no longer seem to be a night owl anymore -- having two dogs that need to be walked early will do that to a fellow!

Minus One

Trey Smith

It happened as planned. The woman who had called a few days previous came yesterday to adopt Dylan the cat. Even though he wasn't in the friendliest of moods, the woman was not scared off. I loaded him into the cat carrier and carried him out to her car. And that was it. The woman and her husband drove off with "our" cat.

Della was a real trooper. She held it together until after we went out the door, but as soon as the door shut behind us, she burst into tears. Dylan had been her buddy for 13 years and, just like that, he was gone. As her tears flowed, she talked about the feeling of betrayal -- one that a teary-eyed me agreed with.

For the most part, parents don't give away their children when the kids become inconvenient or circumstances change. Children are keepers and you figure out a way to make each situation work. In our present circumstance, we both feel as if we handed one of our "kids" to a complete stranger. We really have no way of knowing if Dylan has found a new and loving home or if these two people were salivating at the thought of a free cat dinner!

It's probably not the latter, but who really knows these days?

Fido Getting Jerked Around

Trey Smith

There is a recent report that 580 pet dogs and cats in the US have died after eating jerky-type treats. The FDA suspects that these treats have been imported from China, but they can't be sure. Why can't they be sure?

Manufacturers of pet foods are not required to state the country of origin for each ingredient in their products.

We see the big food conglomerates fighting labeling of GMOs for human consumption. We've seen them also fight having to list the country of origin for products used by humans. And why do they fight such initiatives tooth-and-nail? Because they don't want us to know the crap they put in the products we buy!!

Wholesome, healthy and safe ingredients can cut into a corporation's profit margin. Since profits are god, we certainly can't have that! So, in order to keep prices within reach of middle America, companies search for and utilize a variety of questionable ingredients and this "stuff" helps to maintain a company's market share and profits.

Now we know that it is not only we humans who ingest substandard food; our pets also are made sick or less healthy by the commercial crud we feed them.

Society Is Tough On Old Geezers

Trey Smith

Society makes it tough on each of us as we age. While advanced years often equate to greater maturity and wisdom, our culture is enamored with youth. In most aspects of modern society, we are told that to be valued, loved, desired and catered to, we must be young or, at least, young at heart.

Popular culture drives home this message so forcefully that many people spend untold amounts of time and money trying to turn back the years. Seniors and even those of middle age get tummy tucks, facelifts, boob jobs, botox and hair transplants in an attempt to look younger than they actually are. They buy snazzy sports cars in an effort to tell others that they still have the ol' get up and go. They try to keep up with the latest fashions to show they know where it's at. The very notion of accepting one's age for what it is seems like a repugnant concept.

It's not just this way for humans either. When people go looking for a pet, they want cuddly puppies and fuzzy kittens. Old geezers don't get as much as a second look!

We're learning this lesson the hard way as we try desperately to find a home for our 13 year old cat, Dylan. Della has called ALL of the pet shelters in our two county region and none of them will accept such an old cat. With limited budgets, they want animals that have a high chance of adoption and a 13 year old cat doesn't meet that definition. We've talked to countless friends and acquaintances. So far, there has been no interest. Della has posted notices on several websites and Facebook -- no one has contacted her.

Animal advocates say that the worst thing that people can do is to "dump" their pets in the community. Some locales have laws against such things. But what is one to do if no one will take your cat and you can't take him with you? Someone suggested that we simply should euthanize him, but he's healthy! I'm sorry, but that seems to us to be the most inhumane thing a person could do: Kill a healthy animal because he's no longer "convenient" or doesn't fit into the current situation.

This circumstance with Dylan has Della and I both completely demoralized. What are we to do when it comes time for me to make the final move to Ocean Shores and we still haven't found a home for Dylan? What are we to do?

Pulling a Switcheroo

Trey Smith

When I spoke to Della by phone on Monday night, she was both alarmed and concerned. Our dog, Jaz, wasn't adapting well to being at the apartment in Ocean Shores. She missed her sister, Lily, and I think she missed the big goofy guy -- that's me (for those of you keeping score at home) -- as well. Not only was this typically energetic dog acting depressed and droopy, but it was something that she wasn't doing that really had Della worried.

And what was she not doing? Pooping and peeing!

When a lot of domesticated animals are placed in unfamiliar circumstances and settings, many have a tendency to poop and pee a lot, often in locations you would prefer them not to. I suppose it is their way of dealing with the stress and anxiety. In other cases, they simply may be marking their new territory.

Della had taken Jaz out to walk 5 times during the late afternoon and evening to do her "business." But Jaz wasn't cooperating. Jaz was so nervous about this new setting that she wouldn't move more than a foot or two away from Della. When we spoke again on Tuesday morning, Della reported that, after two morning walks, Jaz still hadn't relieved herself. Not even a smidge! And there was no evidence that Jaz had had an accident IN the apartment overnight.

By this point, Della was worried that poor Jaz's bladder must be ready to explode. After a brief discussion on this matter, we decided to pull a switcheroo. I would drive back to Ocean Shores with Lily and Lily would stay behind with Della and Jaz would come back to South Bend with me. (There were also some items Della really needed that I either forgot to purchase for her on Monday or we forgot to bring.)

So, for the third time in 4 days, I made the trip north to Ocean Shores. Because I am far more mobile than my wife, I was able to take Jaz on a longer walk and, during this walk, Jaz pooped AND peed. Lily wasn't very happy with the new arrangement as Della said she whimpered and barked for nearly 30 minutes after we left, but Lily is far more adaptable than Jaz, As Della pointed out, Jaz seems to be a bit autistic like me!

Once we arrived back home in South Bend, Jaz bounded out of the car. Here she can run around the block and in our fenced back yard unleashed. She immediately ran next door to see her canine friend, Cashew and loudly barked, "I'm back!" 

We will put off Jaz's adjustment to apartment living until the time that the big goofy guy has to experience the same adjustment as well.  Maybe things will go better when they both have to adjust at the same time.

The Thing We Haven't Talked About

Trey Smith

In the back of our minds, we know the clock is ticking for our 13 year old cat, Dylan. One of the painful choices we had to make for this move was that only 2 of our 3 animal companions could go with us. One had to be the odd man out and that one is Dylan. He would have made the cut IF he was not so psychotic (Jaz then would have been the one), but he is simply too destructive to take to a rental situation.

At some point in the next 3 - 6 weeks, we need to find him a new living situation. It probably won't be with a new family owing to his advanced age. It is more likely that we will be forced to take him to a no-kill shelter. How do you say goodbye to a 13 year old cat you've had since he was only 3 or 4 weeks old?

While we know that the day is coming soon that we must have a tearful goodbye, we haven't really talked about it all that much. We made this fateful decision weeks ago, but we haven't gotten around to talking about the particulars. Silly as it is, I think both Della and I have thought that, if we don't talk about it, maybe it won't happen. But it is going to happen sooner as opposed to later.

As long as there are belongings to cull through and cleaning to be done here in South Bend, Dylan will continue to have his home. That said, in about one month's time, I hopefully will be nearing the end of this arduous process. When the end is but a few days away, we will have to talk about this issue that we've been avoiding like the plague.

And so, I find myself in an odd situation. On the one hand, I can't wait to join Della in Ocean Shores so that our little family is intact once again. On the other hand, I don't want to be too quick in my culling and cleaning because that will mean that it's time for Dylan to go. I want to maintain his home in South Bend for as long as I can and yet I want to shift my home up north.

As you can see, I'm torn.

It's even worse for Della. She understandably wants me to finish my duties here as soon as I can so that I can join her in our new life as apartment dwellers, but she concurrently understands that the sooner I join her means the final parting with her baby, Dylan. So, she's really torn too.

On Our Own Again

Trey Smith

Della is now in Ocean Shores beginning the process of putting away all the stuff we spent the last ten days packing. So, she's there and I'm here in South Bend -- both of us are on our own again (temporarily). But this post is not a lament about the current situation we face; it's about the situation our two dogs face.

Ever since Lily (the hairless dachshund) came to live with us, she and Jaz have been inseparable. Generally speaking, where one goes, the other goes. Now, however, they are separated by more than 50 miles and both of them are a bit discombobulated.

When we arrived home yesterday evening from the trip to Ocean Shores, Lily scampered into the house and checked every single room for her sister. When that search proved fruitless, she ran down the steps of the deck into the back yard and again there was no Jaz. When she made her way back into the kitchen, she looked at me as if to say, "What in the hell is going on here? Where is my buddy?"

Della phoned to say that Jaz is behaving in much the same way. She keeps going from room to room to room looking for Lily. Each time her search comes up empty, she plops down in front of the couch looking dejected.

Moving -- regardless of the reason or circumstances -- is stressful. Whether human or dog, we get used to the familiarity of where we are and become a bit out of sorts when that familiarity is gone. Most of the time, we learn to adapt, but the learning period is often fraught with varying degrees of anxiety.

Real Life Tao - A Big Wad of Poo

Trey Smith

Amid all the tumult in our lives, our 13 year old cat (Dylan) has been exhibiting signs that he's not feeling too good. He's been a bit more cantankerous than usual and he has recently been having trouble motoring around the house. We realized it was time for a physical examination, but Dylan isn't too keen for those sorts of things! Not only does he hiss and scratch, but as a long-haired cat, it's often difficult to see much of anything.

After more poking and prodding that he certainly was interested in, we discovered the source of his irritability. His fur had become so matted around his poo hole that it was serving as a barrier to his ability to remove completely the feces from his body. There, under layers of fur, we found a giant stinky wad of poo!

We (more Della than me) quickly remedied the problem. We filled up the kitchen sink with warm water and sat him in it. Being a cat -- most felines hate water -- he acted like we were trying to remove his head from his body. He struggled and fought, but we kept his bottom end submerged. After what seemed like hours (about 5 minutes), it was very easy to remove the wad of poo as well as the matted fur. In no time at all, he realized what a service we had performed and slipped into his quasi-affectionate self again.

I bring this up not to gross you out -- though I'm sure several of you genuinely are grossed out -- but to make a point about each of us. Like Dylan, our egos can get all wadded up like a mass of matted fur. When we try to jettison negativity, it gets caught up in the wad of our egos and sticks to us like glue. We become irritable and lash out at those close to us. A good deal of the time we don't even notice the wad.

So, it's a good idea to perform a bit of self-examination every so often. If we are patient and look carefully, we will be able to locate the source of our suffering. Once we see what the problem is, then we can untangle the stinky egoic wad which will allow the negativity to fall away.

This post is part of a series. For an introduction, go here.

Real Life Tao - The Bone Collector

Trey Smith

In our frequent discussions of each individual following their own path, this point often is thought of in terms of human beings alone. I suppose that is natural because we humans know those who are like us the best. We have only begun to scratch the bare surface of comprehending the life of other species. Because of this, it can be difficult to discern what constitutes a path for a giraffe or a geranium.

But when we look at our fellow humans, our task is made more difficult because subjective opinion and analysis tends to seep in. We are apt to place value judgments on what we experience. If someone heads in a direction we favor, then we might say that the person has chosen a good road to walk. If someone heads in direction we disagree with, then we might say that individual has chosen a disastrous path. More often than not, we don't look at the choices through the eyes of the one making them. We only know the vision that pertains to our eyes alone.

As I've mentioned before, I learn a lot of the lessons of Taoism through watching my pets. Each has his/her own personality and each follows a different path in life.

Last night I bought bones for my two dogs. Chewing bones is good for their teeth and it's a great way to reward them for putting up with the strange man -- me -- they live with!

As soon as Lily (the hairless dachshund) received her tasty treat, she dragged it into the front bedroom. Anytime the other dog or cat came anywhere near that room, she growled like she was ready to rip a head off. I didn't see her for hours, but I could hear her merrily chomping on her bone. Well, I think it was the new bone, but it could have been one of many because Lily likes to collect and guard every bone in the house!

Jasmine, on the other hand, is not so protective. She likes to offer her bone to me. She'll chew on it for a while, then she'll pick it up and try to drop it in my lap. I try to explain to her that I'm an ardent vegetarian -- I don't like to touch anything associated with meat -- but I think Jazzy would like nothing better than for me to use my mouth to take the bone out of her mouth. (Yuk!)

When examining these two different ways of handling bones, I don't say that one is the right way and the other is the wrong way. Each of my girls follows her own path in this regard and I simply accept them as they are. One is massively overprotective and the other is about as giving as a creature could possibly be.

Now, if only I could be so accepting of other humans!

This post is part of a series. For an introduction, go here.

One of Those Difficult Decisions

Trey Smith

As Della and I have begun the slow process of downsizing, we realize that some of our most difficult decisions will be those which involve our pets. As homeowners, we can have as many as the law will allow and that we can afford. As apartment or house renters, it is often difficult these days to find a suitable place that will allow folks to have more than one, if ANY.

We have been looking into area senior/disabled housing and the general rule is one pet of no more than 25 lbs. Three of our pets -- Lilly (hairless Dachshund), Buddy (PomChi) and Dylan (cat) -- meet the weight standard. Sadly, Jasmine (pointer/lab) weighs 60 - 70 lbs. and there is no way she could lose enough weight to get anywhere close to 25.

Of our animal brood, Jasmine is the best behaved! She can be walked without a leash and comes when called. She doesn't bark a lot and we've never had a issue with potty problems in the house. She gets along well with other dogs and cats. Yet, for all of her pluses, her size means that, at some point before we move, we most likely will have to let her go. It will break our hearts.

That leaves the three small ones. The most likely candidate to remain with us is Lily. She comes in second in the behavior category. Though she can be a bit yippy and, in inclement weather, she's been known to potty in inappropriate places, she minds fairly well and gets along great with others.

Dylan, the cat, presents a big problem. Though he's been with us for 12 1/2 years, Dylan is psychotic, to put it mildly. If you don't let him in or out of the house as quickly as he prefers, he will scratch up the door or a window screen. Before we moved from Salem in 2005, we had to replace all the window screens in the front of the house because he had torn up all the old ones. We presently have a 6 inch gouge in the door frame of our front door courtesy of Dylan. He would be a security deposit nightmare!

That leaves Buddy, the PomChi. Buddy is a very lovable dog with two distinct issues: 1) He tends to bark incessantly and 2) He pees all over the house! For the 8 months we've had him, we've tried numerous strategies to try to break him of peeing all over our dining room and not one of these strategies has worked! It seems that each day when I get up, I find a new pee stain. (I clean them up and deodorize the rug only to find a fresh one the next day.)

It is because of his peeing problem that yesterday we made one of those difficult decisions. We contacted his previous owner -- the woman had given him up due to surgery -- and she said she's love to have him back. So, with a heavy heart, I took Buddy on one last car ride with me. He no longer lives here.

Eventually, chances are good that we'll have to take Jasmine and Dylan on a last car ride with us too. While giving Buddy back to his previous owner was hard, saying goodbye to Jasmine and Dylan will be gut-wrenching. They've been with us the longest.

Cute As a Bug

Trey Smith

I'm not sure where the phrase "cute as a bug" originated, but me thinks a bug must have uttered it first! Only a bug would think that a bug is cute! Have you looked at most of them up close and personal? A good deal of them look rather gnarley, in my humble opinion. (To be fair, I wouldn't be surprised if bugs think the same thing of us!)

While bugs may not be the sexiest creatures on the face of the earth, I will give them credit for being darn smart. No matter how we humans try to eradicate them, they seem to keep puttering along year after year.

Take, for example, the flea. If you have dogs or cats, you know the difficulty in trying to keep your beloved companions from becoming infested with fleas each summer. This year, as we have done for many years, we trotted down to the vet's office in April to find out which magical ointment or elixir was to be this year's first defense against the coming infestation. Not surprisingly, this year's strategy was the same as last year's. And, as we have been noting for quite some time, what worked stupendously last year is not very effective at all this year!

The fleas have learned to adapt. What killed them last year doesn't kill them this year. This is good for the fleas, but bad for our pets AND ourselves. Though we have dutifully provided two of our dogs (our hairless dog doesn't need it) with their monthly anti-flea pill, they have both become infested with the biting bugs, nonetheless.

It has been this way for quite some time. Fleas become a problem in our household every other year. Every two years a new "can't miss" concoction is brought out on the market and it is very effective for that year ONLY. By the time the next summer rolls around, them smart fleas have figured out a way around it and so the "can't miss" concoction misses badly. Veterinary science will catch on to this notion and I'm sure a new concoction will be ready for next year. It will work grandly next summer and then not work at all after that.

And so the cycle goes...

The Great Put Down

Trey Smith

For all of you readers who have ever shared your life with one or more pets, there is a good chance that a time has come in which you've had a pet euthanized -- put down -- to alleviate suffering. Too often, it's an agonizing decision based, in part, on the fact that we can't ask the animal directly, "Is this what you want?"

In a manner of speaking, when a human decides that it is time to end the life of a beloved pet, we are assuming the role of god (unless, of course, you don't believe in a god). We make the ultimate decision as to the life and death of another being.

For the most part, when such decisions are made with care and love, we are said to be acting humanely and humaneness is seen by most people to be a virtuous attribute. Some of the most revered individuals in the history of humankind are those we honor as being the most humane.

In light of all this, why then do so many people consider it taboo to euthanize human beings, particularly those who desire it? Unlike a dog, cat or parakeet who cannot specifically tell us that their pain, infirmity or disability has become too much for them to bear, a human being can specifically tell us precisely that. A human being that we love and cherish can tell us that they are ready to die and yet, in the eyes of many, if we honor such a request, others will accuse us of being the epitome of inhumane!

Why is that we can humanely put down a suffering animal and yet not do the same for a person we love?

Conversation With a Pea

Trey Smith

We all know that other creatures -- particularly dogs -- don't comprehend human speech. They may react to voice inflections or be trained to respond to specific commands, but that's about it.

Or is it?

On Friday morning, I was mixing up my daily berry smoothie. A part of this daily routine is that Jazz, the big dog, gets to lick the remnants of yogurt off the back of the lid and, Lilly, our hairless dachshund, gets to lick out the yogurt container itself. Lily (who I also call Pea because she's as cute as a pea in the pod) LOVES this daily ritual.

As usual, Jazz sat down right next to me awaiting her customary lick of the yogurt lid. When it came time to present the yogurt container to Lily's salivating tongue, she was nowhere to be seen. So, I called her. No response. I called again. Still no response. I called a third time and no Lily.

I looked directly at Jazz and muttering to myself said, "Lily, I'm going to call you one more time. If you don't appear, then Jazz gets the yogurt container." Upon finishing my muttering, I saw Lily poke up her head from under a blanket on my recliner. She stared at me with bugged out eyes. All I said to her was "Well?" and she jumped down from the chair and ran gleefully into the kitchen to receive the yogurt container.

I readily will grant that she may have been asleep and she simply was able to awaken herself at the time of my muttering. It may well be nothing more than that. But it does cause a person to wonder: Do animals sometime understand us humans far more than we realize?

It is not a question I have an answer for...but I AM open to the possibility!

Going to the Dogs

Trey Smith

There have only been a very few years throughout my 54 in which there hasn't been at least one dog in my household. For the most part, these dogs have been large or mid-sized; it is only now as I enter my later years with a broken down body that my wife and I have opted for two squirts to go along with one big dog.

While like most dog lovers I like the companionship dogs offer, there is another reason I like having them (cats too) around: A human can learn a lot of admirable traits from our four-legged friends.

The first valuable lesson is that of nonstop love. Whether I'm in a good mood or a testy one, my dogs are ready and willing to hand out affection. Due to my physical issues, there are some days in which I am cranky. Everything hurts all at once and even slight movements bring howls of pain. My dogs seem to sense this and it is on those occasions that they hover around me even more than usual dispensing out their little kisses.

Another valuable lesson I have learned from my canine buddies is not to hold a grudge. There are times when Lily or Buddy doesn't quite make it outside to do their business and a wee wee stain ends up on the carpet. If caught around the time of the dastardly act, either Della or I scolds the culprit. For a few moments, they run to hide because, well, no one likes being scolded. But, in no time at all, the scolding fades from memory and they return to a lap like nothing ever happened.

Lily and Buddy spend a good deal of each day playfully wrestling or chasing each other around throughout the house and yard. Every now and then, one or the other gets a tad bit too aggressive and the other one growls or nips. There is a brief standoff which can look like the beginnings of a donnybrook. But, only moments later, all is forgiven and they resume playing as if nothing untoward happened.

In many ways, the best lesson of all is one about the simple joys of life. While we humans seem preoccupied with success, status, and money, my dogs couldn't care less. Toss them a bone, ball or stick and they can be content for hours. Scratch their tummies and they experience nirvana!

Sometimes they don't seem to be doing much of anything at all and yet it's easy to tell they are happy and content with life. I think they merely are overjoyed to be alive and with those who matter most to them.

Sounds like a good thing for all of us to embrace.

1 + 1 + 1 + 1

Trey Smith

On Wednesday, my wife and I did something totally inexplicable: we went to our local Humane Society and adopted another dog! We had decided that, while Lily and Jaz have bonded very well, we just felt that Lily (the dachshund/xolo mix) would benefit from having a playmate more her size. So, we adopted a Pomchi -- a Chihuahua/Pomeranian mix.

Our new doggie, Buddy, weighs no more than 8 - 10 pounds. Breaking with our family tradition of dogs/female and cats/male, Buddy is a he. He's a cute little guy -- I'll try to post a picture or two at some point -- but he's very needy. He suffers from extreme separation anxiety. If one of us gets out of eye shot, he starts whimpering, crying and barking.

Socializing him to our family and routine will be a good project for me! Task #1 is to convince him that Dylan (the cat) is not a green one-eyed monster!

Bow Wow Tao

You know, I think a person can learn a lot about people from dogs. Often times, canine behavior closely mirrors our own. Allow me to provide an example.

We have two dogs: Jasmine (Jaz) - a 70 lb. Retriever/Pointer mix and Lily - a 15 lb. Dachshund/Xolo mix. As is common with dachshunds, if we allowed it, Lily would gorge herself. The way she eats you'd think she was a Saint Bernard!! Jaz, on the other hand, eats more like a Collie. She eats her food gingerly and doesn't like to eat when anyone is within 10-20 feet of her.

When feeding time comes around, I serve Lily first. I want to get her focused on wolfing down her allotment so she won't go into the other room to discombobulate Jasmine. But for all my careful planning, it rarely works out the way intended. Why, you ask. Because both dogs want to see what the other is eating!

Mind you, they are both eating the same thing. The only difference is in the amount each receives. Since Jaz is far bigger, she receives a much larger portion. Lily receives far less because she only weighs 15 lbs. and we want to keep it that way!

Once I have convinced each dog (convincing Lily involves picking her up to take her back into the kitchen) to eat from their own dish, I still have to stand guard to ensure Lily doesn't try an end run.

People are much the same. We often don't know how to feel about things until we can size up other people's reactions. If others are envious or express congratulations, then we feel good about what we have. If others scoff or pooh-pooh our possessions or relationships, we no longer feel so good about them.

We all behave this way to some degree. We peek to see what our family, friends and neighbors have in order to better judge what we have or don't have. Even a certified nonconformist like me engages in this type of behavior -- the main difference is that I flip things around! When others are envious or express congratulations, then I decide to eschew what I initially thought was good. When others scoff or make negative comments, then I embrace the object of their scorn. :-)

I wonder what my dogs are up to now?

Real Life Tao - You Aren't What You Wear

About 6 months ago -- after our beloved Princess succumbed to cancer -- we went to the local Humane Society and adopted Lily. Our new little doggy is part dachshund and part xoloitzcuintle (Mexican Hairless). Having never had a hairless canine in the family before, we have spent a lot of time performing research on the internet.

One important thing that we've learned is that hairless dogs are impacted by extreme temperatures more so than other critters. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Fur acts as an insulator and this dog don't got no fur on over 90 percent of her body. (She has a little bit on the top of her head, around her muzzle, on her feet and the tip of her tail.)

When the weather turns cold, the experts recommend that you have doggy sweaters, pullovers, jammies and coats ready at hand. Well, the weather here has turned colder and so, particularly in the evening and night, we dress our doggy in her warm weather clothing.

We've purchased several used outfits and, yesterday, we went to a pet store near Astoria (Oregon) to buy her a new sweater. Last night we put it on her and, let me tell ya, she looks cute as a bug!

Yes, we are responsible pet owners. We're working diligently to ensure our little xolo doesn't get cold. There is only problem: She isn't cooperating!!

It seems like every time we get her dressed up in a piece of her apparel, within a few minutes or hours, we discover that she's naked as a jay bird! She invariably finds a way to wriggle out of it. Mind you, we're not dressing her up so she can look like a little foo-foo dog; we're trying to protect her from the elements.

What does she do when she's obviously cold? She finds a blanket or some of our dirty clothes and she burrows underneath them. She stays there until she is sufficiently warmed and then comes charging out to run around the house and yard like a banshee.

I'm certainly not suggesting we're going to throw away all of her dog clothes. When we get into the middle of winter, maybe she won't think a sweater or pjs are so bad. But we're learning that all the expert advice -- much of it good-intentioned -- isn't on the same path as she is.

This situation offers a good lesson to those of us who walk on two feet. External advice as to how to lead our lives often will miss the mark. By its very nature, this kind of advice is generic and each of us is unique. What may work for the average person may or may not suit us.

Each being plies its own path.

This post is part of a series. For an introduction, go here.

Joe Bucks

I think I only met Joe Bucks one time. He was a very strange feline, but he had been my brother's constant companion for many, many years. Joe Bucks died suddenly yesterday morning and my brother, understandably, is a bit distraught.

As I have chronicled on this blog, it has been a rough two or three years in our household on the pet front. We have lost to death 4 dogs and 1 cat -- plus another cat disappeared. But the situation for Della and I is categorically different than it is for my brother, Sean.

For one thing, Della and I have each other to share the grief with. As a single man (without too many friends), Sean sits in his domicile alone. Each time one our pets died, there remained other animal companions in our home and we have been able to channel our grief into more doting attention on the survivors. Joe Bucks was Sean's sole animal buddy.

Anytime a being that has been an integral part of one's family departs -- for whatever reason -- it can be very difficult to cope with the void left behind. Personally, I think it's even harder to deal with when that departure has been sudden and unexpected.

My thoughts are with you, bro!

Afternoon Matinee: Dog Sense